Hope and Peace
by Foundation of Dreams
Summary: Three years after the rebellion, Katniss has a nightmare. Peeta is able to comfort her, and find hope that they might get to be happy in the future. Just a quick and kind of sappy one-shot. Loosely inspired by the song Peace by O.A.R. I haven't written in a while, so please R&R! P.S. I don't own the Hunger Games.


**Katniss**

_"You." The roughness of the voice startled me, and I whirled around so fast that my hair whipped me in the face and my lips stung, my heart beating so violently I was sure it would escape my chest. It couldn't be, it wasn't possible...but I would have recognized that voice anywhere._

_I stood, rooted to the spot in horror, as I took in the sight before me. It was Cato and his face and body were mangled almost beyond recognition, pieces of flesh missing and blood oozing down his face. I gagged as the stench of rotting meat hit me. Cato continued to walk towards me, dragging his left foot behind him. "You did this to me," he accused, and he pointed the tip of a glimmering sword at me as he stood, swaying, only a few feet away from me._

"No,_ C-Cato. It wasn't me, it wasn't my fault, you remember the games," I stammered, trying desperately not to vomit._

_"Liar!" He roared, stepping even closer, pressing the tip of sword to my chest, letting it pierce the skin directly over my heart. "You murdered me!" He screamed, and bloody saliva flew into my face. _

_A moment later, I realized I was holding a gun, and I pointed it at his head. The horror I had been experiencing was washed away, and my hand did not shake as I put my finger over the trigger. But then it wasn't Cato at all anymore, it was Peeta who was all but dead on his feet, bleeding out in front of me. The horror rose up in me again, mingled with panic as my mind raced. Who had done this to him? He fell to his knees and looked at me with tears running down his face. "Katniss, please," he whispered, choking on a sob, and I was unsure as to whether he was begging me for his life or his death. The smell of roses tinged with blood hit my nostrils and the urge to vomit almost overwhelmed me this time. President Snow stood behind me, reached out and covered my hand with his, helped me hold the gun steady, and then, before I could even process his presence, he put his finger over mine and pulled the trigger. Peeta crumpled like a rag doll, and was dead before his head hit the floor. _

I screamed so loudly it hurt my throat. My eyes flew open in the dark and I couldn't stop screaming, not until I ran out of breath and I saw red dots dance across my vision. Peeta flew out of bed, scrambling to hit the lights. I sobbed at the sight of him standing there, unharmed and whole, bare chest heaving and sweat pants loose on his hips as he scanned the room. His eyes met mine as my scream finally broke and I collapsed back onto the bed, sobs wracking my body. It was not the first time I'd had this nightmare, but it seemed that it got worse every time. All the time when Peeta had been hijacked, I had been terrified that I would end up been forced to kill him, wondered constantly if I would even be able to if it came down to it. I always knew that I wouldn't, but someone always forced my hand in the nightmare. Peeta crawled back into bed beside me, leaving the lights on. I knew he would keep them on for the rest of the night. He lay down beside me again and pulled the covers up over us, shutting out the cold. He reached for me, but I pulled away, hiccupping. "Real or not real?" I demanded, terrified that this was just a sick extension of the nightmare.

"Real, Katniss. I'm real." he assured me, his eyes glittering as he held back his own tears. This time when he reached for me I allowed him to pull me into his arms, let my head rest on his chest. His skin was so hot it burned, or maybe I was just cold. He pressed his lips against my forehead and ran his fingers gently through my hair, soothing me. He didn't ask about the nightmare; he already knew. I was glad that he didn't try to speak, just lay there with me, stroking my hair and occasionally kissing me softly on my nose or my cheek. The last thing I was aware of before I fell back asleep was his lips pressed against mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Peeta<strong>

It had been three years since the horrors of the Games and the rebellion. The world was slowly beginning to move on and rebuild, but for so many of us, especially those of us who survived the Games, it was a struggle to even think of moving on. Katniss and I had been having more good days than bad in the past few months, and I viewed that as a small success. Each night that we got through was a tiny victory, at least for me. I was beginning to hope that someday we would be able to find our happiness again.

It had been weeks since Katniss had had a nightmare as bad as this one, and it had shaken me as it always did, and probably always would. I hated seeing her so upset, so terrified. She was usually the emotionally strong one out of the two of us, ever since my time in the Capitol. It was hard to see her so distraught. There had been so many times when she had refused to let me near her, locking herself in the bathroom, or curling up on the armchair in our room and just sitting there, quiet in the dark, until morning came. On those nights I let her think that I went back to sleep, because I knew that was what she wanted, but I never did. I looked down at her now, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that she had fallen asleep again, nestled against my chest. She had never been able to go back to sleep after a nightmare before.

I carefully shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, praying that she wouldn't wake up. Looking down at her, seeing how relaxed she was, I was overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude. I was thankful that I was able to be the strong one tonight, that she had let me be there for her. I sighed. I didn't know what tomorrow would look like for us, or the day after that. I did know that this would not be the last, nor the worst of Katniss's night terrors, and I knew that I had not seen the last of mine either. I was fully aware that we still had a long road ahead of us. But as she slept, my hope grew. I did not fear the darkness, or that sleep would bring back the horrible memories. I did not worry about what would happen in the morning, or the morning after that. I knew that if we could get through this night, it would be a little bit easier next time. I experienced true peace for the first time in my life that night, and I knew that she had too. I closed my eyes and fell asleep, and dreamed of the happiness that I was sure our futures held.


End file.
